Undertale: Imagines
by File 13
Summary: Undertale: Imagines is literally going to be a bunch of one-shots that I have written. They may be silly, they may be serious. Most of them will center around my comic Soultale and VanillaUT but AUs may show up. There will be ships, there may be mature content (nothing above PG-13), fluff, SPOILERS, no real storyline, and there will DEFINITELY be Trash! I offer these to you. Enjoy!
1. Story 1: Unpleasant Wake-Up Calls

**_Chapter 1_**

 ** _"Unpleasant Wake-Up Calls"_**

 _*No warnings on this chapter.*_

Frisk sat up and stretched, yawning like a cat. "What izzit Pap?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. Papyrus shoved something small and hard into her chest, his skeleton grin wide and eyes shimmering with excitement. "Pap… Why… What's with the Nerf gun?"

"It was Undyne's idea!" he said softly. "We need to be quiet though. My brother is about to have a rude awakening." He giggled and started rocking back and forth on his heels. Frisk rolled over onto her back and looked at the small toy gun. It was a single shot pistol with a few extra bolts in the grip. Papyrus handed her a second, similar to the first. Looking at it, she realized that it wasn't an actual Nerf gun, though still a toy dart gun, and was in the shape of a Halo Magnum.

"C'mon, Frisk. Let's do it!" Undyne hissed eagerly, pulling Frisk up off the couch by one arm and dragging her upstairs.

San's room was the last door in the hall, the door plain and unadorned. It wasn't closed all the way, either. Alphys held her phone timidly, obviously nervous, but she was smiling too. "Y-y-you guys ready?" she whispered, holding up her phone, obviously ready to record or take a picture.

"You bet, darling," Mettaton said lavishly. He hefted his gun, which was a huge automatic gun with a large magazine. Undyne and Papyrus both had moderate sized guns, and Frisk her two pistols.

"Okay, start recording," Undyne whispered. Alphys's grin widened. "So, like, we're all awake, and Sans isn't, so, like, Pap and I came up with this great idea. Time to wake up the lazy bones."

"Unpleasantly," Alphys whispered.

"Let's do it," Papyrus said excitedly. They all converged around San's door. Undyne raised three fingers, mouthing the words, "Three, two, one."

Papyrus and Undyne both kicked the unclosed door open to fast that, when they looked later, it smashed a hole in the wall.

"WAKE UP SANS!" screamed Mettaton, Undyne, and Papyrus. Frisk was laughing too hard to say anything. The lumpy figure underneath all of San's blankets shifted a little bit before they began pelting it with small rubber and foam darts. Sans flailed wildly, his eye glowing suddenly bright blue, trying the shield himself. He failed.

"I hate you guys so much right now," he groaned.


	2. Story 2: Nice Creams and Flirting

**_Story 2_**

 ** _"Nice Creams and Flirting"_**

 _*This chapter contains Sans x Female Older!Frisk*_

 _*Please note also that this is my OPT and will show up a LOT. Frisk is NOT a self-insert.*_

Papyrus handed Sans the Nice Cream, and Sans, grinning and shutting his eyes, handed it to Frisk, which she accepted with a retaliatory smile. He watched as she stuck out her tongue, about to lick the frozen treat when the magic happened.

" _You look lovely today_!"

"Who said that?" Frisk asked, lowering the nice cream. Sans bit back a snort. She looked so confused! Papyrus handed him another nice cream, which he took, but didn't start to eat.

" _Yes, you! You're so pretty_!" said the Nice Cream. Frisk looked at the treat with wide eyes, but her face was already starting to turn a little pink. " _And you're so nice, too! I'll bet everyone loves you and wants to be your friend!"_

Frisk giggled and hid her eyes behind her hand in embarrassment. Sans leaned forward so his mouth was next to her ear. She didn't see him.

"Heh heh. That's real cute, kid," he said softly, and she let out a yelp of surprise.

"Oh my gosh, _Sans_ I _swear_!" she whined, pulling her arms and legs close to her chest in a defensive movement.

"Did that Nice Cream mention you're beautiful, too, or did it forget?" he asked, laughing. Papyrus watched the two with mild amusement. Frisk blushed crimson and groaned, burying her head in her knees. Sans laughed even harder and gripped her shoulders and pulled her over to him so she bumped against his bony chest. "I'm jist _teasin'_ ya, Sweetheart!"

"I hate you so much, Sans," came a muffled groan and a snort. "Papyrus, get this joker away from me, please?"

"What did you do, brother?" Papyrus asked loudly, his hands flying to his hips in a stern manner. Sans looked at him, hoisting an unconvincingly innocent expression on his face.

"'m not doin' nothing, Pap. Just teasing her is all. Nothin' wrong with that, is there?"


	3. Story 3: A Spider, A Shopping Trip, and

_**Story 3**_

" _ **A Spider, A Shopping Trip, and A Dress"**_

 _*This chapter contains Female!Older!Frisk/Soultale Frisk (My creation), and Female!Older!Soultale Chara (Still my creation)*_

 _(I've decided to adopt this into the cannon of Soultale as the story of how Frisk gets her dress in the beginning of one of Soultale's arc's, which is NOT out yet!)_

 _*This chapter is a request from Barbacar. Go check them out!*_

Frisk opened her eyes slowly, blinking the sleep away. Her mouth tasted like something had crawled in it and died in the middle of the night. She smacked her lips in disgust, sitting up with a stretch and a yawn before slouching back on her sheets and gazed around at her room. It was painted dark green, with a window on the wall to her left. Dusty sunlight filtered in through the spaces between the blinds, pooling onto her sheets. A little crease appeared in between Frisk's eyebrows as she sat there. She felt like she was forgetting something, but she couldn't remember exactly…

"Mom?" she croaked out to Toriel.

"Yes my child?" came Toriel's muffled voice a moment later from what Frisk supposed was the kitchen.

"Was I supposed to be doing something today?" she asked loudly, swinging her legs out from under the covers and sliding onto the floor.

"Yes dear, you were going to go with Muffet to buy a new dress for your meeting at the Embassy in a few days."

Frisk smiled suddenly. "Oh yeah," she said to herself, kicking her shirt from the day before off the floor and into her clothes hamper with a deft flick of her foot. She might have been bad at soccer, but she wasn't bad at using her feet to avoid bending over.

Muffet was the Spider Queen, and one of the most overbearing, shrill, and yet sweetest people Frisk knew, close behind Papyrus and Alphys. And she had excellent taste in clothing, almost as good as Mettaton's. She was the first person Frisk would turn to for fashion advice, especially for a big thing like a formal meeting with other Ambassadors. At only 17 years old, Frisk couldn't afford to have people thinking that she was immature as an Ambassador or otherwise lax when it came to the integration of Monsterkind onto Humankind. She never really trusted herself when it came to clothes.

A warm smell was wafting from the kitchen. Frisk turned towards her doorway, which had been left open the night before, feeling like she was in some scene out of one of Alphy's animes. Toriel had always made an _egg-celent_ full Irish breakfast, and Frisk always liked unorthodox meals, being a strange American teenager. She chuckled a little at her own pun. Hanging around Sans so much had not changed her love of bad jokes.

She turned to look at her closet and smiled. Today was going to be good.

}{

"Well, here we are dearie," giggled Muffet.

She and Frisk were standing in front of a huge mall, a sea of multicolored cars at their backs. Frisk lowered her black shades to get a better look at the building.

"It's… Huge," she finally said, dumbstruck. Muffet took a long drag on her cigarette, blowing out a couple rings of purple smoke and giggling again.

"Ahuhuhuh, that's no matter, dearie, that just means we have all the more chance of finding the perfect dress for this meeting your having!"

Frisk looked at Muffet for a moment, returning her sunglasses to their original position and shoving her hands in her bleached jeans uncomfortably. "Okay, I guess so," she said slowly. Muffet grinned toothily and grabbed Frisk's hand with two of her own, gesturing grandly towards the building with three more.

"Dearie, we are on an adventure! Act a bit more excited, will you?" She threw the now expended cigarette into the ashtray by one of the doors, stowing her long and shockingly purple cigarette holder in her bag, earning her a lot of funny looks from the security. Well, it might have been that, or it might have been the short little black and turquoise kimono she wore, or the small silver tiara on her sleek black hair pulled into a bun with two chopsticks. But Frisk knew better. It was because she was a monster. A monster with six arms and five eyes, and was at least a foot taller than either of them, and they were pretty tall.

Her chest suddenly burned with anger, and she felt Chara grimace with fury as well. _Don't try anything,_ Frisk thought sternly.

 _Now why would I do that, huh Partner?_ Chara replied, her voice sulky and sarcastic. _Don't chya trust me anymore?_ Frisk rolled her eyes and followed the spider monster through endless aisles, past dozens upon dozens of shops and kiosks, and down the long straight that was the inside of the vast mall.

"I think Papy would like this shop," Frisk chuckled at one point, gesturing at a shop aptly named "Papyrus" and sold men's suits.

She must have tried on a hundred dresses. Muffet was having too much fun with all of the different options, and Frisk, though she would never say it to the spider queen, was frankly getting tired of it.

"Dearie, I'm going to go put all of these away," she said after they spent a while in one shop, having tried on a dozen different articles and finding none that either of them liked.

"I can put them away," Frisk offered, but Muffet laughed and waved an airy hand, gathering all of the rejected dresses in her many arms.

"No, no no no no no, I've got this, Frisky darling! We can't have the Princess of Monsterkind going off and hurting herself by carrying too much now can we?"

Frisk wanted to point out that Muffet was the Queen of Spiders, but Muffet had already flounced away through the many racks of clothes. Frisk lowered her hand that she had raised to stop the spider woman and plopped down on one of the little seats outside the changing rooms, her chin resting on her hands and elbows on her knees. Her feet were really starting to hurt now, and all they had accomplished was buying a couple of pairs of earrings and making a lot of work for the mall staff. She sucked morosely on the last dregs of her soft drink, the straw making an annoyingly loud sucking when they had gone before tossing the empty soda cup in a nearby trash can.

It never made it.

Instead, it bounced off a man, a scruffy looking guy about in his late twenties with dirty fingernails and an expression akin to a deer being caught in bright headlights. They stared at one another for several seconds that seemed to last several minutes, shocked. Frisk noticed what he was holding.

"Drop that!" Frisk shrieked, standing up suddenly and pointing at Muffet's purse, which was dangling from his arm. "Thief!"

He bolted, running away from her, the purse clutched tightly in his arms. Frisk tore after him, scrambling to get a grip on the tiled floor with her black Vans. She no longer had to summon her Save screen to Act. Instead, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, which had a heavy OtterBox case on it, and chucked it as hard as she could at the man's head. It made satisfying contact, and the man stumbled and tripped to the floor. Frisk didn't stop quite in time and tripped over his legs, falling to the floor.

She never made it. She felt as her Soul was slowed, and her body was encircled suddenly by four slim arms as they pulled her back to her feet in a tight hug before releasing her. The thief struggled to get back to his feet, but Muffet's high-heeled boots were suddenly before his eyes. He looked up slowly, sweat dripping down the side of his face in nervousness as he looked at the spider monster towering above him. She threw out a hip, a pout on her lips, then leaned down and plucked her bag out of his limp hands. "I'll be taking that, thank you very much," she hissed with a grin, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. She lit it, taking a deep breath, then breathed it out into the thief's face. He coughed at the over-strong smell of wet flour, scrambling to get back onto his feet. "Hold on dearie, I'm not quite done with you."

She lifted him up easily by the collar of his shirt with three hands, one more hand holding his jaw. The man let out a small whimper of fear as five eyes black as liquid jet gazed unblinkingly into his face. "Let's figure out what to do with you, shall we?"

}{

Frisk clapped, rolling with laughter in her chair. Muffet gave her tinkling "ahuhuhuh" oh a giggle from beside her, haunched over. A very uncomfortable looking man was standing in a dress on a runway in front of them, Mettaton giving him directions.

This was Frisk's idea of justice. The thief was now modeling dresses for the two girls, forced to walk Mettaton's runway lest the two girls report him to the police. Frisk stopped laughing enough to actually look at the dress. "That one," she said at last through her tears. "I like that one."

Muffet looked long and hard at the dark blue and gold dress, then smiled and nodded her fangs flashing. "Yes, that one is good, dearie. Oh Mettaton?"

Mettaton turned and looked at them, one perfect dark eyebrow raised in question.

"I think that dress will do, love," she said. Mettaton nodded, and the girls stood up together and walked out of the small room. Before they had reached the door however, Frisk felt a strong urge, and suddenly attacked Muffet with a hug.

"Oh my!" she yelped, looking down at the human girl, whose arms had wrapped around the spider woman's middle. "What was that for, dearie?"

"Thanks a lot, Muffet," Frisk said happily, looking up at her with sparkling golden amber eyes, a wide smile on her face. "Today was great."

Muffet watched her for a couple moments more, then smiled herself and hugged the human back. "It was my pleasure, Frisk. My pleasure.

A/N I really have no life, lol. Welp, again, I got a request from Barbacar for a story with Muffet and Frisk, and I think I've made up my mind about something. "Undertale: Imagines" will accept a few requests. But I will need either a basic story, or I need you to give me a couple characters and/or a situation. I WON'T be taking everyones' requests, so don't get your feelings hurt if I don't pick yours, please. Either PM me or leave a comment to make a request, and please tell me if it's for this. They need to be short stories, lol, I will NOT make anything longer than a chapter.

Anyway, enjoy PLeAZE! (And also, feed me sugar. Or carbs in general.)


	4. Story 4: Not Quite a Date

**_Story 4_**

 ** _"Not Quite a Date"_**

 _*This chapter contains Soultale (aka Fem!Older!Frisk) Frisk and Chara and Sans x Frisk*_

 _*Kind of crap. This was an early version of the date with Sans for Soultale I had floating around in my head, and I had to get it out. This is no longer part of the Soultale "canon".*_

 _*Soultale is my creation, but it's not an AU*_

Frisk leaned to the side, stretching her neck to see around the corner. Sans was leaning against the wall, staring into space with his hands in his pockets. He looked over and saw Frisk and smiled. She smiled back and walked up to him.

"Hey Sans," she said. Sans straightened up and tilted his head.

"Hey kid. I heard your journey's almost over."

"Yeah, I think I'm getting' there."

"Wanna grab a bite to eat with me?" he asked, jerking his head to the front doors.

"Like a…"

"Like a what?"

Frisk blushed. "Nevermind. Sure, I'll go."

Sans grinned and closed his eyes. "Great! Thanks for treating me!" He started to walk into the alleyway, away from the large and ornate glass doors.

"Uhh, Sans?" Frisk pointed at the doors as the skeleton looked over his shoulder at her. "The uh… The front doors are that way."

"Who uses doors?" He asked, turning to her and holding out a hand. "Come over here. I know a shortcut."

"Of course you do," Frisk chuckled, taking his hand and feeling the familiar sensation of falling through icy nothingness. When she opened her eyes, she was sitting in a chair at a table, Sans watching her over a small flame. "Wow. That was…"

"Yeah." Sans chuckled. "Well… Here we are."

He looked at her for a few more seconds, his grin fading the tiniest bit before blushing bright blue. Frisk felt her own face grow hot, and looked away at the same time Sans did. She could almost hear Chara's puzzlement and was suddenly glad that she couldn't read her thoughts unless permitted.

"So, uh… Your journey's almost over, huh?" Frisk looked back at him. His face was still a little blue. "You must… Really wanna go home…"

"I miss the Surface, a lot…" Frisk said softly. Sans glanced away again. "Heh… I just… I want to go home…"

"Hey, I know the feeling buddo. Wanting to go home, I mean… Though… Maybe sometimes, it's better to take what's given to you."

"Sans, what are you, like, talking about?"

"Down here you've already got food, drink… Friends… Is what you have to do… Really worth it?"

Frisk silently shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Sans had turned completely away from her, his eyes tight shut, but he turned back after a moment.

"Ah, forget it. I'm rootin' for ya kid." He turned away again, like he was gathering his thoughts. The silence spanned several long seconds. Frisk felt a painful lump growing in her throat.

"So, I'm a sentry in Snowdin Forest, right? I basically just sit out there and watch for humans. It's honestly kind of boring. Fortunately, deep in the forest, there's this _huge_ locked door. Perfect for practicing knock knock jokes. So one day, I'm knocking 'em out, like usual. I knock on the door and say ' _knock knock'_ , and suddenly, from the other side, I hear a woman's voice answers 'who's there'. So naturally, I respond ' _dishes'_. ' _Dishes who_?' ' _Dishes a very bad joke'_. Then she just howls with laughter, like it was the best joke she's heard in a hundred years."

Frisk giggled at the joke, and Sans smiled a tiny bit. "So I keep 'em coming, and she keeps laughing. She's the best audience I've ever had. After a dozen of 'em, _she_ knocks and says ' _knock knock'_. I say ' _Who's there_?' ' _Old lady_.' ' _Old lady who_?' " _Oh! I did not know you could yodel!_ '" Frisk snorted again and Sans rolled his eyes with a grin. "Wow was all I could think. This woman was extremely good. We kept telling each other jokes for hours. Eventually, I had to leave. Papyrus gets kinda cranky without his bedtime story." He winked and it was Frisk's turn to roll her eyes. "But she told me to come by again, and so I did. And again, and again. It's a thing now, telling bad jokes through the door. It pretty much rules."

He turned away, his skeletal grin slipping and eyes growing dim. "Sans?" Frisk asked timidly. The light-hearted air of this story was rapidly dissipating, and Frisk didn't know why.

"One day though, I noticed she wasn't laughing very much. I asked her what was up. Then she told me something strange… 'If a human ever comes through this door… Will you please, please promise me something… Will you watch over them? And protect them? Will you not…?"

"Now, I hate making promises. You should know that by now, huh? And this woman? I didn't even know her name. But… Someone who sincerely likes bad jokes… They just have a sort of integrity you can't say 'no' to."

"Sans, what's wrong?" Frisk asked softly, barely audible over the chatter of the other diners. Sans looked troubled by something. "Why are you telling me this… What happened?"

"Do you get where I'm goin', Frisk?" he asked softly, almost miserably. "That promise that I made to her… You know what would have happened… If she hadn't said anything?"

Frisk felt her heart speed up. "Kid…" He blinked slowly, and when he opened his eyes, there was no light, no sparkle, no sign of life in them. Just black emptiness that Frisk felt penetrate her soul. "You'd be dead where you stand…"

He gazed at her like that for a moment before his eyes widened in surprise, the white-blue pinpricks lighting back up again. "Uh, Frisk?"

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. The tears were flowing thick and fast. "Sans… I'm… I'm sorry…" she choked out. "You're right… You're right."

"Kid, I-I'm just jokin' with ya," he said nervously, raising his hands in a characteristic gesture. He looked more shocked after Frisk spoke.

"No you're not Sans… And I don't blame you…" She looked up and tried to give him a miserable, watery smile. "I d-don't blame you for being afraid of me…"

"Frisk…?"

Frisk set a clenched hand on the table as she tried to wipe away her tears. She didn't see Sans reach forward, hesitating before he touched her hand. She jumped at his touch. She had had held Papyrus's hand before, and the smoothness of the bony fingers was odd, but comforting all the same. She looked at Sans, tears still leaking from her eyes. Sans looked at her, uncomfortable and upset, and obviously feeling bad about making her cry. He lifted her hand and looked sadly at her fingers. "Frisk, I… I'm not afraid of you." He closed his eyes and squeezed her hand before letting it go and standing up,

"Sorry, kid," he sighed before chuckling resignedly. "I guess… I'll talk to you later then…"

"Sans, wait!" Frisk stood up and stumbled over to where Sans was walking away, throwing her arms around his chest and stopping him mid-stride. He lowered his head, though Frisk couldn't see his expression.

"Kid, I'm sorry." He gently pried her arms off of him, holding her hands for a split second too long, before smiling a little and walking away. "Hope you can find it in ya to forgive me." The rip in space-time that he always used appeared, shimmering faintly. Frisk blinked and… He was gone.

 **A/N Heheh. Remember that this is not going to be "canon" to my comic. Kinda. Looking back now, it's kind of dumb. Anyways, feed me carbs and shoot me a request! Later bros!**


	5. Story 5: Death By Glamor

**_Story 5_**

 ** _"Death By Glamor"_**

 _*This chapter contains Fem!Older!Frisk, the Dancetale AU, and Sans x Frisk*_

 _*I promise not all of these one-shots will be Sans x Frisk hahahah just... A lot. I like them waaaay too much.*_

She bowed, one leg straight in front of her, and arms out to the sides. She did it as dramatically and elegantly as possible, since she knew that that was how Mettaton worked. Mettaton looked at her appraisingly for a moment before bowing as well, though his was more masculine than Frisk's, of course. They straightened, and Mettaton held out a hand. Frisk took it, and he swung her around in a single spin. When he let her go, she spun away from him before sinking to the floor.

"I hope you're ready for this, darling," he said, motionless. Frisk looked at him hard and long.

"Born ready," she smirked. A little " _Confidence! +500_ " splash text popped up off to her right, and Mettaton's look became suddenly more determined. He twirled away, and Frisk stood up quickly and followed his lead, going in the opposite direction. As he spun for the final time he activated his attack; a hundred small Mettaton robots hanging from bright yellow umbrellas floated to the ground from the ceiling. Frisk's Soul turned from its normal red to gold and flipped around as she aimed it with her hands. It fired tiny flashes of light, and as they came into contact with the little robot doppelgangers, the tiny Mettatons shattered and faded into puffs of cotton candy colored smoke.

A few of the bolts of golden light missed, however, and as soon as the remaining robots got below about Frisk's head level, they started showing her with kisses, which was a lot more dangerous than it sounds. The "kisses" pelted her Soul, and she twirled away in an effort to dodge them. The pain was similar to that of getting shot with small, sharp objects. Not very fun, and she gasped and stumbled a tiny bit as she came to a stop, facing Mettaton once more, breathing heavily. Mettaton was smirking handsomely, and gave a tiny mock bow to the crowd. "Confidence! +500" popped up beside him as Frisk looked at her options. Check, as usual, Brag, and… _Cry_? She didn't really like any of the options. She chose Brag.

"Hey Mettaton? Bet'cha can't hit me _once_!" she shouted, spinning around Mettaton, throwing out her hip as she finished and blowing him a kiss. His smirk did not falter, but his eyes darted nervously to the side. Or had it just been her imagination? It honestly didn't matter, because he was sort of trying to kick her face it at the moment. She spun and weaved away from his legs, but he smacked her hard at the end, cracking his metal high heel over her head. shouting, she sank to the floor. She had never believed that little joke about seeing stars until that moment. She was definitely seeing them now. She collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain, clutching her head. Mettaton's heel had left a gash down the side of her face, and it was trickling blood into her eye.

"I hit you once, darling. You need me to do it again?" Mettaton asked sweetly, towing above her.

 _Cry_. Her tears and blood mingled into a sickening concoction as it reached her lips. She wanted to puke from the pain.

Several miles away, though she didn't know it, sat two brothers. Papyrus was flipping through the three channels available on the television; an older MTT Movie (Mettaton XIII), an old human television show called the Andy Griffith Show, and MTT TV. He liked the human show a lot, and usually thought that Sans could learn a lot if he would just stay awake long enough to hear anything past the punch line. Sans was, as per usual, asleep, his head on Papyrus's lap and snoring lightly.

"OH BROTHER, THERE IS A NEW EPISODE ON FOR MTT TV," Papyrus said mildly. Sans snored again. He wasn't really asleep, just pretending to be.

"Wazzit Pap…?" he slurred drowsily, not opening his eyes.

"I SAID THERE'S A NEW EPISODE OF… BROTHER? S-SANS?"

"Yeah? What's going on?"

"I NEED A SECOND OPINION. IS IT JUST ME, OR DOES THE PERSON ON THE SCREEN LOOK EXACTLY LIKE THE HUMAN?"

Sans sat up and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. "I dunno, Papyrus, all I'm seeing is Mettato-" He froze, jaw hanging open in shock as he saw Frisk's face on the screen. She was controlling her Soul at that moment, and aiming small blasts of gold energy at tiny robots raining from the ceiling. He watched as a few of the little robots, which looked exactly like Mettaton, threw something at Frisk and she twirled away to escape them.

"AND ALSO, DID METTATON GET A NEW… _LOOK_?" This was also true. Mettaton was no longer the toaster looking thing on one wheel. He looked more like a human than even Frisk did, in a way.

"Holy crap Papyrus, I think… That's Frisk right there! Fighting Mettaton! She's dancing with him!"

"OH MY GOSH BROTHER!" Papyrus flung an arm into the air and smacked Sans in the face on accident. "I THINK THAT IS THE HUMAN FRISK BATTLING WITH METTATON!"

"Gee Pap, I woulda never guessed," Sans smiled and rolled his eyes, rubbing his head.

They watched, enraptured. They were struck again by how incredible it was that Frisk was still alive and dancing. Her taunt made San's stomach turn. He knew that that was going to be very difficult. Difficult like how it was trying to watch with Papyrus screaming advice for Frisk in his ear.

"RIGHT! LEFT! NOW RIGHT AGAIN! RIGHT! _AH_!" Both of them gasped as Mettaton's high-heeled foot finally made contact with Frisk's head and watched her crumple to the ground with a scream, clutching it.

"Oh my gosh Pap, she's hurt bad," Sans said worriedly, pointing at the stream of blood pouring down her face.

"WHAT SHOULD WE _DO_ , BROTHER?"

"It's not like we _can_ do anything, Pap… But _dang_ … _I wish I could_." The two watched in shock as Frisk started to cry. " _Weakness. -250_ ," Sans read out loud. "C'mon kid, you can get through this… You got to."

Frisk clutched her head for a few more seconds before finally getting back up to her feet, wobbling and unsteady her sleeves painted red with her own blood as she wiped it and the tears away. She had already activated the Cry option by doing so on her own, so it was Mettaton's turn again. He sent another barrage of little flying Mettaton cronies raining down on her, and she did her best to dodge then and make it look like a dance. She had noticed that trying to make her actions seem like a dance was a great idea in this world. She stopped at the end of the attack with a final bullet.

"Hope you like this brand," she muttered as she downed the Steak in the Shape of Mettaton's Face that was sitting in her inventory. It was too overcooked to her liking, like chewing shoe leather. But Mettaton's face lit up when he saw… Well, his face getting eaten by the human girl. She cringed and shuddered uncomfortably at the thought. That. Was _so_ _wrong_.

" _The audience loved the brand_ ," quipped Chara, giving Frisk a significant look. " _The damage you_ will _take during this turn… Has been reduced."_

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," said Frisk sarcastically, bending over backwards to avoid a vicious kick from Mettaton's leg, then rolling onto the floor and coming back up in a graceful pirouette.

" _You're welcome_ ," Chara said innocently, sickeningly.

"If you're quite finished, darling," Mettaton purred as he took a step back away from Frisk and threw out a hip, arm akimbo. "Are you ready to let down everyone you love?" Frisk moistened her lips, her eyes darting from Mettaton to the screen with the ratings on it. She moved her arms in front of her and stood in fifth position for a long, long time, watching. Her mind was blank, eyes darting around for something, anything, and her heart sped up. She was suddenly lost. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't think!

"There's no way you're going to survive. You can't win against me, darling. Just give it up already." Frisk felt her stomach drop. That was too close to home for her liking. A hard, painful lump was rising in her throat suddenly, and she couldn't say anything back. She just stood there.

"WHAT IS THE HUMAN DOING?" Papyrus asked back in Snowdin.

"I think she's thinkin', Pap," said Sans slowly.

"WELL SHE'S CERTAINLY NOT DOING A VERY GOOD JOB AT IT IS SHE? WHAT DOES SHE EVEN NEED TO THINK ABOUT? SHE JUST NEEDS TO DANCE!"

Sans turned to Papyrus with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. "Papyrus? Where's your phone?"

"WHY DO YOU NEED MY PHONE? USE YOUR OWN PHONE."

"I just know the first three digits of her number, man, plus it's dead. So can I _pretty_ _please_ use your phone _right this second_? It's urgent."

Papyrus rummaged through the pockets of his shorts for a moment (he only wore street clothes at home, really) and fished out his phone. Sans sped through the recently dialed options since he knew Papyrus very rarely added anyone to his contacts, preferring to commit them all to memory. It was just something weird he did. But Sans found Frisk's phone number (or the first three digits at least) and pressed call. The two watched the screen, mesmerized as they watched Frisk's face falling, as she jumped and pulled out her phone.

"Hello? Papyrus?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes darting to the suddenly relaxed Mettaton. Monsters always stopped fighting if their opponent was on the phone for some reason.

"H-hey kiddo," said Sans. His face felt a little bit hot all of a sudden.

"Sans? What are you doing? Why are you-"

"Quit asking questions, Frisk," Sans cut in. Her face on the screen turned offended. "Listen to me kid. Listen to my voice and only my voice. Stop wondering. Stop second guessing, stop over thinking. Just let it come."

"I don't get it." Her voice raised a pitch suddenly. She sounded close to tears. Her next words were devoid of almost all hope. "Help me Sans… Papy… I'm scared…"

"WE ARE HERE FOR YOU, HUMAN!" said Papyrus, speaking into the microphone. "WE BELIEVE IN YOU!"

"Kid, you remember the Resort?" said Sans softly. Frisk's amber eyes that been sparking with tears just a moment before suddenly cleared. "You and I? Our dance?"

"Of course I remember, but… What does that have to do with…?"

"Just dance, sweetheart. Just dance. Don't think about what might happen, what will happen, don't think about the past or the future. Just dance… Like we did… Okay?"

Frisk closed her eyes, obviously trying not to cry, but she smiled a tiny bit; a watery, weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. She sniffed and rubbed her nose. "Okay," she said, her voice cracking. "Thanks guys."

She pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and returned to fifth position. Mettaton looked faintly bewildered before turning to the camera.

"Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen?" He asked the camera grandly. "Of course you did! It sounds like our opponent finally has enough determination to continue! Someone believes in her an awful lot, don't you think? Almost… _To a fault?_ "

"That's nice to know," Frisk said loudly, pressing the Brag option. "Now are we gonna dance or what?"

Mettaton gave her another devilishly handsome grin. "After you, darling. Ready or not, here I come."

 **A/N I love all the characters in UT, but I seem to write only about the big four; Frisk, Sans, Papyrus, and Chara. That makes me sad. So, I thought about how the fight with Mettaton would go with in Dance Tale, with a Soultale flair! Coz... In Soultale, Chara is stuck in Frisk's head... And... Frans. Yeah *Coughs* Whatever. Pleaze send me carbs and requests!**


	6. Story 6: Who Says Chivalry Is Dead?

**_Story 6_**

 ** _"Who Says Chivalry Is Dead?"_**

 _*This chapter contains Older!Fem!Frisk, and hints at Sans x Frisk... Again*_

 _*A Dancetale one shot, with a Soultale flair*_

 _Based off of this dance and song:_ _watch?v=aZfR7qc0WVs (It's "Chivalry Is Dead" by Ian Eastwood feat. Megan Batoon. Watch it, this'll make a ton more sense lolz)_

 _(Start at 1:43)_

It was a sandwich and frozen yogurt shop, squeezed between a retail store and a guitar shop. Nothing special. Just a small, nondescript cafe with little white and red striped awnings over the door and two large windows. But there were several groups of people ranging from singles to parties of twelve inside eating or ordering their food, both monsters, but mostly humans. Lunch rush crowd. Nothing spectacular.

The door opened with a small tinkling from a bell. A girl in her late teens with short brown hair and pretty golden amber eyes and a skeleton monster wearing a flannel and flat-billed baseball cap. The skeleton was holding the door open for the girl, who chuckled and walked through, making her way to the line. A few patrons of the shop spared them disinterested glances before returning to their conversations or food. The skeleton whispered something into the girl's ear, and she laughed before ordering their food.

There was a young, very pregnant woman in front of them wrangling three small children, and as she pulled out her wallet, one of her small boys knocked against her arm. She groaned in embarrased exasperation and struggled to lean over and pick it up. As she squatted down, the skeleton leaned to the side, reaching over her back and swiped his card through the scanner before shoving it in his pocket. The teenage girl punched him playfully on the shoulder, and both started grinning, watching the young mother stand back up with a groan, holding her credit card. She was about the swipe it, then did a double take, looking at the little screen with her total. She turned around at the snickering that was coming from behind her to see the human giggling and fidgeting and the skeleton wink at her. She glanced at their entwined hands, then back at their faces with a grin of thanks. The skeleton shrugged, and the woman herded her children to a booth to wait for their number to be called. But she never heard her number. Instead, the human and the monster carried the tray over to her. Now she was surprised. The couple, obviously young adults, though it was hard to tell with a skeleton monster, both looked like they were trying hard not to laugh out loud, grinning broadly.

They disappeared after a few minutes to a secluded little corner of the shop, where only a couple people could see them giggling and giving offerings of food to one another. A few monsters, a few humans. One of the humans wore a look of absolute disgust, finding the idea of a human falling in love with a monster, and a skeleton for that matter, repulsive. But the young couple ignored their stares, perfectly happy where they were.

A song suddenly came through the tinny speakers in the ceilings, too loud, too little range between the bass and the high notes, too fuzzy to completely make out all the words, but the skeleton and human girl sprang from their seats and ran to the little open area by the front doors and in front of the cash register. Most people looked up at the sudden movement- the pregnant mother, the racist man, the snobby looking woman the teenage boy at the cash register, the pale bunny monster. The skeleton spun his partner around once before she threw herself into a chair.

The skeleton whistled and doffed his hat, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the baseball cap to his chest.

 _Girl, just let your hair down, let's paint the whole town, life is our playground, yeah_

The skeleton began to dance, running his fingers across imaginary hair, then turning the hat like a wheel and placing it back on his head and turning away from his teenage spread his arms off to the side, rolling on the balls of his feet and shrugging before reaching up the the ceiling and rocking his lower body back and forth like some strange see-saw, whistling once again.

 _But I'm not a kid no more, So I must open doors and make you feel like the lady you are_

He pivoted, shaking his finger and grapevining back to the girl, opening his flannel and setting first one hand, then the other back to his side like he was giving options. His left arm rotated back the the short-haired girl, like he was showing off, still rocking back and forth on his feet. He suddenly straightened, hand on his hat as he took it off for a fraction of a second. His teenage companion grinned at him, and he moved fluidly over. A few people had taken out phones and had begun to record his dance.

 _My momma raised me to be classy, not flashy, I'm happy to please you_

 _Though I can tell that's not what you're used to_

The skeleton closed his flannel briefly before opening it back up and raising part of his shirt and flashing the girl a tiny bit of bony hip, shaking the over-shirt once again, hunched over and tweaking his non-existent nose. He did a complicated move, rotating on the spot and holding the back of his pants on his toes before slowly lowering back to the floor.

 _And they say (They say) chivalry is dead (Dead, Dead)_

 _Girl, let a real man pick up the slack, And treat you with respect, yeah_

He paused for a moment before making a little jump, grapevining once again from side to side and gave a little spin, leaning first forward, then backward, holding his throat. His arms suddenly raised, and he clasped his hands behind his head, lowering to one knee on the floor, switching to the other, and tugging on his shirt with a look of determination. He switched momentarily back to the other knee before regaining his feet, showing off a little more fancy footwork, before offering the girl his hand, still a few feet away, and gazing up at the ceiling.

 _You don't have to love me, love me, love me, love me, you don't have to love me, love me, love me, love me._

The skeleton faced the girl again, twisting his body in an odd way and turning his heels alternatively before turning once again to roll his entire body.

 _Just 'cause I'm a gentleman don't mean, I ain't taking you to bed_

His arms moved in a flurry, ending up by his head, to which he rested on, like a pillow, rotating his left knee back and forth, and then scurried over to the human girl and taking her hands.

 _Ahhh, baby let me buy your meals, I see you're head over heels_

 _I feel like you deserve it, There's no pressure, We can do whatever makes you comfortable, yeah_

She didn't seem like she was going along with this little number at first, letting him manipulate her arms, point the foot on her outstretched leg first up at the ceiling, then at the wall, but the moment her moved away, she followed him. They stopped suddenly, ending up on their toes, then rolling backwards. They faced one another, one moving forward, then back, the other moving the opposite way, stepping excitedly towards each other. The girl froze, the skeleton monster touching her upper body. She made an odd flinching movement, grabbing his hands, with which he raised over her head, resting his arm on her shoulder, leaning against her back. They looked to opposite directions, then back at one another and nodded, scrambling to one side and making a tiny dance with one another, like a swing dance.

 _I could float your boat, If you're cold take my coat, I'll sing a music note from a song that I just wrote_

The skeleton spun around, letting go of the human girl's hands, and she grabbed the shoulders of his flannel jacket, halfway pulling it off him, when he spun right around again and held her face in both of his hands. They turned, the skeleton holding out his hands, the girl reaching to pull something imaginary out of the far one and scrutinizing it carefully.

 _Girl, just take my hand, And let me be your man, Though that's not what you're used to_

They jumped into the air, throwing their weight forward, hands on their chests and facing the same direction, then leaning back and committing to mini solos. The skeleton lowered himself to the floor on his knees, one leg under the human girl. She squatted down holding his shoulders and him her waist as they slowly rose back up. They rocked from side to side, the skeleton wagging a mock disapproving finger in her face, before they slowly turned away, raising their shoulders and glancing at one another.

 _And they say chivalry is dead, (Dead, Dead)_

 _Girl, let a real man pick up the slack, And treat you with respect, yeah_

The skeleton dropped both of his shoulders in quick succession, the girl copying his movements with an amused expression on her face. They spun, he turning her and spinning her into a dip, her right leg raised and straight, proof of unknown years of ballet training. He rubbed her leg, which bent, then straightened again, lifting her back into a standing position, both suddenly clutching one another's clothes, and separating again, sliding away from each other. The golden-eyed girl made to turn away, but the skeleton caught her hand, bringing it up and momentarily in a sweet kiss (if a skeleton could even kiss, considering they didn't really have… lips), his grin widening. The girl obviously did not know that this had been part of their routine, looking away in embarrassment and grinning, her face turning pink.

 _And you don't have to love me, Love me, Love me_

 _You don't have to love me, Love me, Love me_

 _Just 'cause I'm a gentleman don't mean I ain't taking you to bed_

A couple people snickered at the girl's expression, but she took it like a champ, turning suddenly and doing the same rocking back and forth movement her partner had a minute ago, in sync with him now, right up to the point where they raised their hands up to their heads like they were resting.

 _And you don't have to love me, love me, love me_

 _You don't have to love me, love me, love me_

They lowered their hands slowly, leaning the opposite direction. The girl was obviously absorbed in her movement, but the skeleton had other ideas, gently touching her hand as they got close enough. She spared him one look of amusement as their hands left one another, crossing their other arms and in front of their knees as the leaned the other way, bouncing to the beat.

 _Just 'cause I'm a gentleman don't mean I ain't taking you to bed, bed._

They turned, the skeleton making one more complicated little step and taking off his hat, which he gently placed on the head of his smaller partner. She bit back a laugh, looking down at her shoes as he placed his hands on her hips, gently swaying momentarily from side to side, like a slow dance, before turning and walking towards the door. The song ended with a few little whistles, replaced with another tinny sounding pop-song, and most of those people who had been videoing the couple during their dance pressed the button to stop the recording. But a couple continued to film, including the pregnant mother and the cashier, watching as the skeleton led his young partner away, his arm around her waist, hers around his. He opened the door allowing her easy exit, the bell over the door clinking a little more merrily than it had when they had entered, and they left.

And try as they might have, people watching for them out the window to watch where they walked away, like they had just disappeared the moment the doors had closed.

Later that day, if you looked on the internet, you would most likely find a blog belonging to a young mother. A video would be on the top of its feed, and below it would be the words, _"I took the kids out to lunch and much to my surprise, this teenage girl and a skeleton monster showed up just after me. I dropped my credit card, and when I stood back up our food had been paid for. And when it was ready, the skeleton and the girl carried the tray over to us without asking. Before we left though, this song started to play on the radio, and the young couple graced us with a beautiful dance._

 _"_ _Who says chivalry is dead?"_

 **A/N Heheh. I really like Dancetale. And Frans. ._.** **(Someonehalpmeactuallypleasedon'tIwillgodownwiththisship) YEAH I'm accepting prompts, so please shoot me a PM or review with a suggestion! ^-^**


	7. Story 7: Never Be Alone, My Sunshine

_**Story 7**_

" _ **Never Be Alone, My Sunshine"**_

 _*This chapter contains feelz and Soultale!Gaster, Soultale!Sans, Soultale!Papyrus, as well as an OC named Soultale!Athena. Soultale is my creation.*_

He went by many names. Some were silly, some were serious; "Doctor", "Sir", "Skelly", "Doc". But most people called him Gaster.

His name wasn't really Gaster. It was actually Wing Ding Aster, but everyone had always called him Gaster. So, it stuck with him. But only one person called him their love. That was his wife, Athena. And she was his shining star, equal only to their two beautiful sons.

He remembered how it had been before they were married. Gaster had been a young man, probably about sixteen, and still wearing striped clothing when he had first met Athena. He had grown up bookish, always sneaking down to the dumps in Waterfall to see if any new books had washed down the waterfalls that stretched fall off into the dark ceiling. He loved books, especially the ones about human science. He had always been told that humans were the ones who let these things fall down, and this was his proof that it was right. He learned a lot about humans just by reading their books. He was one of the few who knew what they looked like.

But Athena had been his almost complete opposite. While he was quiet and shy and nervous and overly cautious, Athena had been one of the prettiest, most popular girls his age at their school. She was talented, she was beautiful, she was funny, and exciting, and ready to take risks, and… He was attracted to her almost from the start.

His first time ever being alone with her was one of the most memorable times of his life. They had been paired together for a school project, he did not remember what it was, except that it was a lot of reaching and crossing over of arms and trying not to touch the other's hands as they built it. The problem had been was that the assignment had been due within the next few days, but Athena was nowhere to be found.

He had looked all over Snowdin Town for her, shivering with cold and hesitant to show his face around the few people who lived there. He had found her ice skating with a couple of her friends, sliding across a frozen sheet, her peach colored skirt flapping a little as she twisted and spun, sometimes graceful, other times clumsy and left-footed, and still other times looking like all she was doing nothing but having fun.

She grinded to a halt in front of him after seeing him standing by the side of the frozen pond, grinning from cheekbone to cheekbone and staring at the tall, scrawny skeleton gaping at her in his baggy button up and wrinkled pants, his jaw hanging. She had laughed brightly, shutting his perfect comical "O" with one hand and pulling him by his plum colored shirt with the other, forcing him on the ice. He thought he might have screamed, but that only made her laugh harder as they slipped and slid across the sheet, trying not to lose their balance as she led him in a strange, graceless dance.

Gaster had changed after that day. It was a slow, painful, gradual, dragging change, but it happened. He was more outgoing, he wasn't afraid of getting hurt, he wore his heart proudly on his sleeve, he discovered that he had a certain fondness for joking and being a comedian. He was starting to get friends, and if he looked up during one of their classes as they took notes, he could often find a pretty skeleton face gazing, smiling at him, her pale lavender eyes flashing with embarrassment as she looked away, the faint flush of purple rising up her cheeks.

Gaster did not know exactly why she has chosen to marry him, a boring nobody who was too afraid to step out of his comfort zone. But she had.

There was a night, he remembered, after their first child had been born, he walked in through the front door, expecting the house to be dark and quiet. He had been working extremely late thanks to work the past couple of weeks and was downright tired to the bone. Afterall, one didn't get the job of Royal Scientist easily. But he had been surprised to hear the gentle, musical voice of his wife in the next room. He shut the door with a soft click and snuck around the corner, avoiding detection.

Athena's back was to him, sitting in the old rocking chair by the warm fire that Gaster had many times repaired with loving hands, rocking slowly back and forth and holding the bundle of red blanket that was their firstborn son, and singing softly. Gaster closed his eyes, drinking in her voice with a faint smile on his bony lips.

It was a well-known, often sung, and much loved lullabye. Every child in the Underground had heard it at least once in their lives. It was a song that the missing Queen Toriel had loved so, so much for several years, before she mysteriously disappeared. It was quiet and gentle, and the tune was simple and melodic. It was a staple, almost, in every monster household of this generation. Happiness and Determination suddenly flowed through Gaster's bones, and such a love filled him he had not thought it possible.

But those small moments and sweet times were not to last.

Shortly after the birth of their second son, a deadly epidemic had swept through the Underground, known as Backspine Fever. Athena had been one of the unlucky number to contract it. Those were some of the worst days of Gaster's life. He had watched his Soulmate crumble away into dust in his arms, left alone, a young father with two small sons, no real job yet, and a heartache no one should ever have to go through. He fell into a deep misery, drinking at odd times of day, forgetting to feed his own children, spending too long at Grillby's. But one night, he woke up to the sound of Sans, his younger son, crying loudly from the next room. He didn't know what to do, how to calm the baby. He fumbled as he picked up the child, as well as his older son, Papyrus, who had started to cry at the sound of his brother. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know… He was alone. So, so alone… And suddenly...

Athena was there.

Gaster's wife, her ghost, if that was possible, was suddenly at his side.

She told him what to do. He wasn't sure if he really did see anything. There was nobody there other than himself and his two crying children. But he fet her. He felt the soft warmth that caressed his bony cheek, the soft, sweet voice that guided him just like so many years ago it had on a pane of ice. He took a deep, shaky breath, and, in a cracked, painful voice, began to sing the lullaby his dead wife had sung to her sons not so long ago:

 _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

 _You make me happy when skies are gray..._

 _You'll never know dear, how much I love you._

 _Please don't take my sunshine away..._

 _You told me once, dear, you really loved me,_

 _And no one else could come between._

 _But now you've left me and love another;_

 _You have shattered all of my dreams._

 _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..._

 _You make me happy when skies are gray..._

 _You'll never know dear, how much I love you..._

 _Please don't take my sunshine away..._

 _In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me..._

 _When I awake my poor heart pains._

 _So when you come back and make me happy._

 _I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame._

 _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

 _You make me happy when skies are gray._

 _You'll never know dear, how much I love you._

 _Please… Don't take... My sunshine…_

 _Away…_

Papyrus and Sans were silent, breathing gently in his arms as he sat in a dark room in the rocking chair that he had not mended since Athena's death. For a moment, Gaster stared into the semi-darkness, his eye sockets wide, tears pouring down his face. There was a sweet laugh in his ear, and a warmth settled over his Soul. The little green heart glowed brighter, as did the orange and blue hearts that were his sons. And suddenly, the tall, dark, crying skeleton knew what Athena had been trying to tell him.

He wasn't left behind. He wasn't the recipient of misfortune, the plaything of devils.

She had never left him.

She would always be right there beside him, even if he could not see or hear her. Her memory lived on. She could help him get through this, she could help him fight. And in return, Gaster swore, as he lifted his sons- his two precious babies- that he would be the best parent he could ever be and more, not just because he had loved Athena, but because he love these two tiny baby bones. His sons. His… _His…_

And while they might not remember their mother's face, Gaster would bever let them forget their mother's memory.

Because no one was alone.

Never.

 **A/N Hope you enjoyed the feelz trip, you guys! Yeah, this is my Soultale story. It's not an AU, it's a comic, but I haven't published anything about it yet. This is sort of a sneak peak into the character of Gaster. And yeah, in Soultale, Gaster is the Skelebro's dad, and yes, Papyrus is the older one in Soultale, and YES, I HAVE and OC for their mom. I wasn't going to originally, actually, just leave it a mystery, but then I had this idea. So... Athena Cabana Aster. Yeah. She's their mom. Lolz. Oh, and I also wanted to kinda take a break from all the Frans shipping. Jeeze, I am such trash for them, they're so cute /**

 **Another thing, I know "You Are My Sunshine" is a commonly used song, but EVERYBODY only does the forst verse! And the next one fits perfectly for this story! So I stuck it in there!** ** _"You Are My Sunshine" is by Johnny Cash_** **3 (LOVE that guy!)**

 **Whateves. DUDES, REVIEW MY WORK PLEASE! Keep me motivated! It's depressing to see how many people have read it and NOBODY has said anything about it! I am open to prompts and requests! And maybe I'll do a little something on what Soultale is all about... Yannow... If you guys are interested, or care... 7_7 Hmm.**

 **Okay BOI! School's out tomorrow for winter break! YAAAASSS! Be safe and always wear your seatbelt!**


	8. Story 8: Take A Bet(SoultaleSneakPeek)

***This chapter contains Soultale Frisk and assorted characters.***

 **Chapter 1**

 **"** ** _Take a Bet"_**

 ** _The Orphanage, February 8, 6:04 PM_**

 ** _Reset 0_**

"Frisk, tell us a story!"

The little voice cut through the air at a pitch that was similar to a teenage boy's when his voice cracks. It was a typical New England Saturday evening in late spring. Curfew was still only in about an hour, so most everybody was winding down for the night. There was a cozy aura about the place that hinted at early spring. Cozy was a strange concept to those who lived at that orphanage, but certainly not unwelcome.

"A story?" asked the girl in front of the child vaguely, glancing up from the textbook she had been perusing, but not really paying attention to to see a little boy before her in a grey coat. The book was merely a distraction from the dull gnawing in her stomach. Dinner had been awful, so she hadn't eaten it.

She was utterly average in appearance, but that wasn't to say that she was unattractive, with wavy brown hair cut to her shoulders and a sprig in the back that just never seemed to stay down. Her almond shaped eyes were a pretty golden amber color, maybe a little puffy with tiredness, and her skin retained the very faint remnants of a summer tan. There was a bandage along her left cheekbone from when she accidentally gave herself a cut with, strangely enough, a cardboard box. She was lying on her stomach, stretched across her creaky metal framed bed, the once white, now graying sheets crumpled and messed up underneath her.

"Frisk! Please! Everyone's in the sitting room waiting for you!" giggled another little voice. This one was from a little girl with black pigtails and a threadbare brown sweater. She climbed onto the bed and started bouncing, the metal frame creaking and groaning alarmingly. Not really wanting to have her break bed broken and having to sleep on the ground for the next couple of years, Frisk scooped up the little girl and little boy with surprising strength for someone so tired looking and slightly malnourished.

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you a story," she said, smiling tiredly. This was a typical routine. The younger children at the orphanage Frisk had lived in for almost fifteen years often asked for stories. This was because Frisk had what old Mrs. O'Brigham, their caretaker, called an overactive imagination. Frisk said the old bat had what she called the lack of a sense of humor. This was usually followed by a few hours in the kitchens scrubbing dirty pots. But Frisk wasn't really bothered by this. She never had been, and she doubted she ever really would be. It was a change from the bland monotony in the life of an orphan girl of almost seventeen.

But as for her _imagination_ , Frisk imagined that how often the kids would ask for stories was proportionate to how bad things were in their lives, too. If they felt absolutely miserable, Frisk would tell two or three stories a night sometimes.

Frisk and the two small children walked down the hall, skipping a little in game, their footfalls hardly muffled in the paper thin carpeting that had been there since before Frisk could remember. The orphanage was always clean and relatively warm, but it was a grim place to grow up in. Frisk and a couple other older teenagers were some of the few unfortunate souls to have lived here for most of their lives. This _did_ come with some perks, as seniority often did, but Frisk very rarely took advantage of them. Bossing around younger kids so that she could laze around never interested her much. She liked listening to them, watching them, or talking to them, and playing with them. And, thanks to her infamous imagination, the younger ones loved being around her too.

She and the two children turned left at the end of the hall, past the clean window as it let in the light of the setting sun, down the hall and to the left again until they reached a whitewashed wooden door and pushed it open. The room inside was by far the most comfortable in the entire building. The carpet was thicker and a dark green rather than the brownish grey color the rest of the building had. There were recliners and chairs and small tables scattered around, and a big stone fireplace on the opposite wall, surrounded by recliners. On the wall to the right were shelves of books, and to the left, a few small boxes of toys. There were maybe a dozen kids in the room, most of them young ones who were playing with dirty old dolls and picture books, but Brandon Fowler, one of the "seniors" as the elder orphans were called, was sitting at a table with his friends Alex and CJ. Frisk ignored them. They may have all grown up with each other, but those three were jerks to Frisk a lot of the time. Either that or they were being disgusting or trying to impress her.

"So what story am I telling tonight?" she asked, throwing herself into one of the recliners by the empty fireplace. "And who's turn is it to light the fire?"

"Fluffy Bunny, Fluffy Bunny!" shrieked Grey, a little three year old boy, right in her ear. Frisk jumped and clapped a hand over her ear in pain.

"Ow, Grey! No shouting, remember? And I'm definitely not reading "Peek-a-boo with Fluffy Bunny" again."

"What about a fairytale?" said the little girl who had come into the room with Frisk. Her name was Gina. "Tell us something new, like something not out 'ova book."

"Oh, one of _those_ kinds of stories, eh? I dunno, those are kinda hard to come up with."

" _Please_?" chimed a bunch of voices.

"Maybe if you go get Braden and Reighlie out of the toy boxes I'll have time to think one up."

There was a scurrying as seven or eight kids pulled two others to them. Frisk closed her eyes, thinking for a long time even after the children had settled.

"I can't think of anything new guys, I'm sorry," she said at last. There was a groan as she started to reach for the book of Grimm's Fairy Tales, which was sitting on a table by her from the night before, but stopped before she touched it, staring blankly out the window. She could just barely see it from where she sat, but the sight reminded her of something. "But… I do remember a very old fairytale, something I was told many, many years ago, when I was you guys' age." She looked back to see a dozen eager faces looking at her. Of to the side, Brandon, Alex, and CJ were also watching.

 _"Most stories start off "once upon a time","_ she began saying. Her voice had changed suddenly, into one that hinted something different from real life. Something dramatic and rich…

A legend.

 _"This story is different. A long, long time ago, there were two races who lived side by side in peace and harmony; Monsters, and Humans. Humans were stronger than the monsters, but the humans were kind and treated the monsters as their friends and family. For a thousand years the monsters and humans lived together in peace, their SOULS as one. In times of war, a monster and human could join together and become creatures of great power, combining a monster's potent Magic and the Determination and power of a human Soul. All was well for a long, long time._

 _"But soon, the humans grew afraid of the monsters, terrified that they would take their Soul and use them to become powerful enough to destroy their whole race. War broke out suddenly, violently between the King of the monsters and the King of the humans. But the monsters were no match when it came to the power and Determination of human Soul. When the dust off the fallen monsters settled, the humans were victorious at last._

 _"The remaining monsters were forced into a cave inside of a mountain across the sea, and seven human wizards used their magic and the power of their Souls to seal the monsters inside. The Barrier was made so that anything could enter the underground, but nothing could escape it. Over time, humans eventually forgot about the monsters they had once crushed under foot. They forgot all about their past, and their Soul eventually dimmed until they became invisible. We moved on, but legend has it that the monsters are still under the mountain, waiting… Waiting for their chance to return."_

Frisk blinked rapidly then stood up and walked to the window opposite her. "Look outside. See that mountain?" A dozen young children stood up and pressed their faces against the glass. "The great big one, with the snow still on it?" The setting sun behind the building had dyed the mountain a deep red-orange color, like something off of a painting. The snow still capping the top of it seemed an odd sand shade. A couple small clouds hung over it, like hearts at an odd angle. "That's Mount Ebott. Some people, people who believe in magic and fairytales, think that the monsters from this story have been trapped under there for a thousand years, still alive and waiting."

"Do you believe that, Frisk?" asked Tyler, a nine year old boy with an arm cast. Frisk's face scrunched together in thought at the question.

"Well, I don't think it's _not_ real, or possible. I don't think it's impossible that magic and monsters might've existed at one time, and there's a lot of much weirder things have been true before it. But a lot of people also say," her voice changed once again, into one of mystique, so that all the children around her fell silent again, "That there's some cave or mine on Mount Ebott, and everyone who's ever gone in never can out, so there's another possibility that some smart aleck just decided it would be funny to start a roomers."

"But what if it _is_ real?" shivered Gina, wrapping her arms around Frisk's waist. "And the dying thingy? That's so scary." Frisk rolled her eyes and chuckled, ruffling the little girl's hair. Before picking her up and walking back to the fire, which had just barely just been lit.

"On the contrary!" she said in a sudden British accent. It was quite good, actually. "' _It's the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more', 'After all, to the well organized mind, death it but the next great adventure'_. Albus Dumbledore," she added, dropping the accent and setting the little girl in the recliner.

"Wow, you and your stupid quotes, huh?" said another voice off to the side. Frisk closed one eyes and pursed her lips as she turned toward Brandon and his little gang. "So unoriginal, huh, guys?"

They all laughed, and Frisk rolled her eyes. "At least I got the brains to remember stuff, Fowler." The laughing faded suddenly. Brandon's face was slightly red as he stood up.

"I think your stupid little stories are idiotic, and you're a pathetic, raggedy little brat who doesn't get when she needs to give up."

"Wow, my fragile orphan pride has been attacked," she said in a dry, cutting voice. "Don't you have some toilet to stick your head in Fowler?"

"Okay Frisky, I hope you brought some water, coz you're about to get burned _real_ bad."

Frisk laughed. "Aww Hon, why would I get burned when I'm already on fire?" Brandon's face fell slightly as a couple of the other kids " _oooohhhh_ "ed.

"Okay then, why don't we settle this with a bet?" he sneered, folding his arms and shrinking slightly, but still speaking in the same haughty tone.

"I'm listening," said Frisk dryly, folding her arms as well, but throwing her hip out and raising an eyebrow over half closed eyes just to show that she didn't really care. This was also a routine sort of thing; Brandon getting burned, that is.

"I bet a hundred dollars that you can't climb Mount Ebbot and come back alive." Brandon looked triumphant, and Frisk felt her expression slip a little bit.

"Sorry, what?" she said at last, caught slightly off guard. "You want to see me die basically, am I right?"

"What, are you a chicken? Like you said in your little fairytale, no one can climb that mountain and come back. And then you said that you didn't believe that. Prove it. I bet that you'll either die or come back crying."

"Fine." Frisk said at last. "I'll take your stupid bet, _and_ -" she threw her arms into the air, "Just to prove that you're an idiot, I'll pay my hundred up front."

"Oh, it's on, _Frisk-iot_ ," said Brandon, sticking out a hobo-gloved hand. Frisk almost crushed his thin fingers as they shook, sealing the deal. "I'm _so_ looking forward to seeing you running back home crying."

 **A/N THIS IS A PART 1 OF 2!**

 **A/N CONGRATULATIONS! You're one of the lucky few to read part one of the backstory to how Soultale Frisk fell down Mt. Ebbot! Woo! This IS canon to my Soultale series, and I[m hoping to get chapter 0 up soon on the internet, and I'm roughing out chapter 1. Tell Y'all's if you're interested at all XD Have fun, love life, comment, check out my other works, send me carbs, and buckle your seatbelt!**


	9. Story 9: I Don't Want to Die (STSP!)

Story 9

 ***This story contains my Undertale AU** ** _Soultale*_**

Chapter 2

" _I Don't Want to Die"_

 _Mount Ebott, February 9, 5:53 AM_

 _Reset 0_

The bus jarred to a stop, hissing as the doors swing out and open. "Mount Ebott Trail," said the driver, a wiry little old man with shadows under his eyes. Frisk stood up from her seat and walked to the front, handing the man a ten dollar bill with a smile, which he returned.

"Thank you," she said, jumping the last step and onto the pavement.

"Are you alone, sweetheart?" asked the man in mild concern, sticking the money into the jar on his dashboard. Frisk smiled again and shrugged.

"Just here on a bet. Some people just don't let up. I'll be alright, Mr. Freeman." The old man grinned again, much wider this time.

"Ain't nobody called me Mr. Freeman in a very long time. Never bothered. Good to know there are still good people out there in the world."

"I make it my business to know what I can," waved Frisk with another shrug. "It's no problem, really."

"Let me know it there's anything I can do for ya, okay kid?" With that, Mr. Freeman closed the doors of the bus and drove off up the mountain road, leaving behind only a whiff of diesel. Frisk stood there for a moment before setting off up the hiking path a little to her left. Her old brown hiking boots had a familiar weight to them. She fingered the gold heart locket around her throat, one of the only possessions she had since before she had come to the orphanage as a two year old girl.

It was small, about the size of a bottle cap, but covered with tiny, intricate designs and set with a small blood-red jewel in the center. The original chain had long since grown too small to fit around her neck and had been given to a little girl several years ago who had been adopted, so the little locket hung on a metal ball chain like what held military dog tags. But the sad thing about this locket was that there were no pictures inside, because Frisk, ever since she had been a tiny girl, had saved its space for when she finally had a family to fill the cold metal heart with. Of course, over fifteen years, that optimism had faded quite a bit, but hey, you never know.

She tugged the sleeves of her blue and maroon striped sweater over her hands and raised them to her lips, breathing on them until she regained feeling in her fingertips. It was very cold at this elevation. Patches of snow from the winter snowstorms were still persevering in the shadows of the trees. The wind that beckoned in spring cut through her sweater and she shivered again, hugging her arms close to her body. It was very annoying, she thought picking up a thin stick about the length of her forearm, forked and holding only a single green leaf, very annoying that the mountain seemed to be the last thing in the valley to thaw.

It took her a few hours to reach the river crossing she had been looking for. The trail crossed over it with a few old tree trunks, but she ignored the path and followed the flow of the river for an uneventful mile until the river disappeared altogether. There was a point that had been impassable to Frisk and she had to take a little detour, but she lost the river. Panic settled in her heart and she looked around wildly. There was no way that the river could just vanish. She could still hear it, so why…

Or maybe… This was where she was supposed to be. She slowed her breathing and started to look around. She was in a huge clearing. Huge, imposing grey rocks jutted out of the earth, casting snowy shadows. She turned around and saw a gaping hole in the side of the mountain, almost dripping with ivy and dead vines.

"Oh gosh, I hope that's not where I'm supposed to be headed…" groaned Frisk, her bravery faltering. But there weren't really any other caves around, so she had no choice but to go into this one. She thought for a second about backing out and just lying to Brandon Fowler that she had gone into the cave, but she prided herself in being a generally honest person. Besides, she was here to explore for herself, too. She jogged briskly to the cave, determined. There weren't any remnants of mining equipment, she noticed as she walked into the mouth of the cave, switching on her flashlight so the wide beam of dim yellow light let her see her surroundings. It was a real cave.

She walked to the wall on her left, tapping the walls with the stick she had picked up a while ago. There were painted carvings there, too old and weather beaten to make out distinctly. She gazed at it for a few more seconds before looking around again. All of the walls were covered in these carvings, all of them too ancient or vegetation covered to make out. The bits that she could see or read seemed to be written in some ancient, archaic language she'd never seen before. Heck, she had trouble with some _English_ words, forget dead languages. She gave up trying to read the walls pretty quick and started walking deeper into the cave, taking care not to trip on the thick vines that covered everything. She suddenly noticed that the deeper into the cave she got, the warmer and wetter the air seemed to get. She was filled with absolute wonder as she looked at all of the carvings. She had heard of old Indian cave paintings and such, but she didn't think these were anything like those. These were much too intricate and beautiful, even in their moldering state.

"I am so confuzzled right now," she said shaking her hand and looking up at the stony roof, using a word of her own invention. "So so confu-" she gasped and flailed wildly, falling. Her foot slipped into a huge hole, over six feet wide and so deep she couldn't see the bottom. She continued to fall until she stopped herself by grabbing onto a vine that was growing into the hole. She was gasping, her heart hammering in her chest. The flashlight had fallen down the hole, the quickly fading light spinning out of control. The only light now was the weak sunlight that permeated the cave entrance a hundred feet away, and before long, that too would fade since the sun was rising away from the mouth.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh…" Her breath was coming in gasps, and she felt tears flowing down her cheeks. _I'm gonna die here. Fowler was right! I'm going to fall and I'm going to freakin' die. I don't want to die! I haven't gotten a family! I haven't learned to drive! I don't want to die! No please no… God if you're there, help me…! Don't let me die…!_

She hung there for several more seconds, sobbing and screaming that she didn't want to die. She called, sobbed, screamed for help, but nobody came. She fell silent, clutching the spiny vine for a long, long time. A drop of blood ran down her hand before long, soaking into a small, growing dark spot on her sleeve. Her fingers were cramping. She was going to fall before long so… There was nothing to lose. She tried to pull herself up. The adrenaline in her body made the task feel easier than it should be. Hand over hand, her feet scrabbled against the smooth, sheer stone as she pulled herself up. She became eager and convinced she was about to make it and then… Time seemed to freeze for several long moments as she gasped, reaching madly for a vine, a rock, something to hold onto, but there was nothing…

Falling… Falling… Frisk was frozen in midair, watching the shrinking circle of golden light that was the hole with wide, unblinking eyes. Cold wind whistled in her ears, her hair whipping around her face. Aside from the wind, it was silent, save for the screaming echoing back into her ears. She was going to die as a bloody stain in the belly of the Earth. The light was now only a pinprick above her… And she blacked out.

 **A/N Congratulations! You've discovered the reason why and how Soultale Frisk fell down into the Underground! Well done! Thanks for reading so far. Yes, I know it's crap, but it's a bit of an older idea. Comment, read my other stuff, have fun, and don't die :) Love yourself!**

 **~File_13**


End file.
